Port Observation
by VBlaiddDrwgV
Summary: Garrus watches a battle that he missed *most of* from Shepard's point of view, taken from her helmet cam. Rated T for language.


The first thing Garrus does when he enters Kasumi's quarters is close the shutters. Normally he finds the vastness of space peaceful and comforting but right then he just wants to find a small space and shut himself in. The second thing he does is pour himself a drink. The third thing he does is pour himself another. No point in getting comfortable until he's well supplied. Double fisting his concoctions, he limps towards the sofa and turns on the vid screen. Kasumi had mentioned that he could come by anytime and "chill", since her room happened to be the one with the bar and all the movies. He figured that she meant while she was there but now was not the time for semantics. He thinks that he should probably take her up on her offer sometime, with her in the room, that is. She's a good kid. Real chatty though. He can't imagine watching a film with her- she'd probably talk through the whole thing. Still, it would be good to do some socializing with someone who wasn't Shepard. He is as far from gregarious as Kasumi is the embodiment of it. She's probably, at that very moment, regaling Shepard and Jack with some humorous and dangerous tale or another all the way to Daratar. Shepard would be engaged and laughing, Jack not so much. He makes to take a gulp out of his now empty second glass and thinks about how much he regrets not grabbing the whole bottle but mostly thinks about how he regrets that Kasumi is on a mission with his Shepard and not him. His Shepard. He never really thought about it that way but that was the truth of it right there, _in vino veritas_. He gets up to rectify his drinking problem.

His shepherd, his mentor, his guide. Ever since that day they met on the Citadel he'd followed her and would keep following her, possibly to death itself. At first he didn't think much of the little human, she was a means to an end. Who was he kidding? He was impressed by her from the first, forgetting that fact, probably due to the million other impressive things he's witnessed her do since that day. She was willing to tackle what he was about to give up, putting her life, her reputation, and her career on the line to do what was right. _If it wasn't for her I would have never followed that lead to its end_, he thinks, lying to himself in that slightly inebriated, self-deprecating way that he was so prone to lately. She pushed him, made him think, made him _better_, but better is never good enough when you are knee deep in a bottle of rye.

When she was gone he was lost but he couldn't give up being her protégé. All he could do to hold on to her was to try and be her, well, his own brand of her, trying to save the world in his kind of merciless, brutal way. At the end of that line, of course she _would_ show up and save his ass, didn't matter that she was dead. He should have known. Damn her. She waltzed into his hideout like it was nothing, only a week had passed for her, and he fell in line like it was only a week for him too. She saved him again that day, not only his life but his mind, saved him from that stupid fucking death-wish space he had been in for two years.

He flips on the vid screen and searches for the file from the last mission, taken from her helmet-cam. He tells himself that it is a study in tactics. More lies. The beginning of the battle on Korlus was quick, fierce, and very well coordinated. The way she fights impresses him and infuriates him all at the same time. He feels that same froth of emotion that he felt that day, safer here with a drink and a smoke, stupidly dangerous on the battlefield. He watches the battle on the edge of his seat, as if he doesn't know what the outcome will be, watches her brazenly stand and shoot at a merc, getting hammered with shots until she has only a sliver of shields left to protect her, take cover, and do it all again. He watches her carefully line up a shot, no, it's not perfect, so she takes a moment to make it so, never one for wasting ammo, all the while a rocket comes straight for her face. She takes the shot at the last possible moment then ducks, the rocket getting so close that it fogs her visor, he hears himself scream, "Shepard", and _that _moment was the last of _his_ account of the battle. He may be a better shot, but she's got stones that any Krogan would pay a million credits for. He almost hates her for it, how much she scares him, but he knows that it's what makes her the best. Damn her, damn him, and damn Mordin for being taken out so soon after and leaving her all alone. He has to keep telling himself that this is the past, that she's alive, that she made it through another nine minutes of this and made it back to the ship with hardly a scratch. That comforting thought is soon replaced, however, by the realization she's probably involved in a similar scene right now. He watches his prone body through her eyes, hears her creak a barely audible "Garrus!" and then she's back in the game. His heart rips apart every time he sees his best friend repeat one of her crazy, daredevil antics and nine minutes seems an eternity. _What if she got taken out and I was the only one left? Would we all be dead?_ His slurring brain goes back and forth between "I'm useless to her" and "I have to train harder" and he doesn't realize the extent to which these conflicting attitudes are mutually exclusive.

It's almost over, he can tell, only one merc standing. "What the fuck was that?" he says out loud, as he watches blue energy coalesce around her form, and in an instant the merc is right in his face, getting head-butted, pistol-whipped, and shot in the face. _Cerberus... they did this to her._ All the while Miranda had been saying that they didn't need to mess with perfection, they had turned her into a biotic powerhouse on top of everything else. How did he not know about this? She didn't use biotics the day she rescued him. Hell, she didn't need them then like she didn't need them here. Once it was over, she ran to him, radioed the Normandy, checked on Mordin, and then she was back at his side. And then it starts again, damn thing is set to loop. He thinks that maybe if he can harden himself to it here, he'll be able to harden himself to it on the battlefield.

The battle keeps playing on loop in his head as he sleeps it off and the next thing that he sees that's real is Kasumi gently prying the bottle from his talons. He decides to feign sleep so as not to hurt the thief's ego. She's as quick and quiet as they come but he's a very light sleeper and not used to being touched.

"I know you're awake, Garrus. You stopped snoring."

"I snore?", he replies innocently, smirking.

She rolls her eyes at him as he stands and begins to clean up the mess of empty glasses and cigarette butts he made. He walks over to the bar and has to stop for a moment, steadying himself.

"Sit down Garrus", she says, exasperated. "What are you doing here?"

"The bar is here." he rasps quietly, pointing one talon down towards the bar, as if to say that was obvious.

"No, I mean what are you doing getting drunk and watching battle vids on loop?"

He turns around, thinks about leaving, then slumps into a seat next to her. "If I was the one left standing that day, we'd all be dead. I'll never be that good."

Kasumi considers this for a moment, with a look that's a mix of confusion and amusement. "Am I really hearing _Commander Envy_ from the guy that held off all the mercs in Omega plus a score of cannon fodder for four straight days?"

Garrus shrugs noncommittally.

She tilts her head at him and sighs. "Which, by the way, was all Shepard could talk about for the entire time you were in the med bay recovering."

He inwardly laughs at the thought of someone talking _Kasumi's_ ear off and almost misses the point about Shepard being impressed with him. "She said that was... _impressive_?"

Kasumi laughs and feigns reaching hard for a memory. "I think the word she actually used was, 'hot'." She ignores his reaction and continues, "She thinks the world of you, you stupid man, and I'm sure she's every bit as impressed by you as you are of her. The only difference is she's not whining about it to me and a bottle of rye. So shape up, Garrus. You're going to need to find your self-confidence if you want to keep on _impressing_ her."

"I think I already have."

"You better be sure. We can spot a fake a mile away."

Garrus smiles as warmly as he can at her, what with his stony face and leftover drunk. "Thanks Kasumi."

"Where are you going?"

"I was thinking the decontamination room and then a nap."

"Oh no! I have to tell you about the mission! There was this Quarian and..."

Garrus turns back and settles himself in for a story. _Why not?_ he thinks. _Her account will probably be a hell of a lot less stressful than watching the vid._

_Author's Note: This story ran through my head while I was playing. The team got taken out and I had to finish on my own. I looked down at Garrus' body and wondered how he would take it and it went from there._


End file.
